Short and Sweet
by draconicBastard
Summary: Who is really using who in this 'relationship'...? Dib and Zim. Oneshot.


Short and Sweet

Warning: ZADR

Gentle...caressing...soft touches echoing across my skin. Lips that floated on my antennae, never really touching just...breathing...which was touch enough. His breath was all around me...it was everywhere. It was on the sheets around me. He panted as humans do...moaned and breathed so heavily every time he kissed me. Humans did those things...were Irkens supposed to?

As he moaned and planted kisses along my neck, I breathed heavily on his shoulder, not for me, but for him, to make him believe I felt the same way. He was lost in a trance, acting as all humans do when mating... It was so familiar to him to trace his hands across my back, through well worn tracks around my pak, he was so used to this pattern of when to kiss in just the right spot. But every time he so much as touched my back, an arch of heightened sense and discomfort spread in my muscles, urging me to move away. Every kiss and touch of his lips on my skin caused my antennae to rise in alarm, signaling some sign of touch. I could practically feel the germs being spread throughout my system from his touches.

Yes, Dib was used to this routine, and my body was still fighting against it. But I deadened those impulses...became numb to the want to rise and slap the boy. I became slightly dead inside and didn't feel the things the Dib did. Didn't feel the things he felt. In his eyes and his heart there was such connection in acting this way...as if he were closer to knowing me by acting this way. I was so distant...so far away from what was going on. Thinking instead of my Tallest...of what they would think...of the deactivated Gir and how much he would love this.

Hands that were too big for the body beneath then ghosted over the bare skin of my front. He was lucky I hadn't punched him for sneaking my shirt off. I let his hands roam as they wanted, over my gloved hands and up to exposed arms. Not once did he pull or nag at the gloves, which was good, I definitely would have hurt him then. Every once in a while he did tug at the hem of my pants, at which point I would pull his hand away with my numb one, or whisper 'no' in his ear. I doubt he took the negative reaction to mind, because he would simply try again soon anyway. Always I would be the dominant and push his hands away. After all, it wasn't because of my pak that he couldn't get me to lay flat beneath him. When he wanted me on top, that was okay, but there was no bottom, I wouldn't allow it. I would, however lay sideways with him halfway on top, giving myself a free arm to lean on, ready to shove him completely off the bed if need-be.

Again, for the millionth time, he switched position. I kept telling him he was much bigger than me, but he always seemed to forget how much smaller I was. He tried to stretch my legs to straddle him, but it never quite worked, just hurt on my end. Maybe it worked for him... Whatever, I never asked, I just followed the muttered instructions and didn't talk. I never did much, my hands went where he put them. Though I did move away slightly when I could feel his need near me...at least I knew I didn't want that. He didn't seem to care or bother to notice my discomfort, just moved closer. It was a struggle not to move away again, so hard to not just bite his ear to make him stop. I almost wished he still had his glasses on, breaking them would make a nice distraction.

I was glad for the chains on his pants though, every time he moved enough for them to make noise, it woke me up from the sedated state he put me in. It gave me more control over him, for while he kept moving and working in that half-aware daze, I was ready to put an end it all when his stupid human senses wouldn't quit. He leaned up and away and smiled with half-lidded eyes, I smiled slightly back, even though that as a lie. But...he was in too much of a daze to notice how fake it was. To notice how much I lacked movement...or how I didn't even participate with him.

Finally, a little noise from inside the Dib's pants, his phone thing telling him something. "Shit," Dib cursed, looking at the message. "I have to go...Gaz's gonna kill me," He said, leaning away. He brought his arm under me and brought me up with him, getting those disgusting mouth germs all over my face. It took five minutes for him to get into a standing position. I remained on the bed, preferring to make him lean over to suck my face rather than me get up. "I'll text you later, Zim," He muttered as he slid his shirt back on. Every time he left he said that, I'll text you later...not once has he texted me unless he wanted something specifically. That was okay...he knew I wasn't one for small talk, especially these days. He grabbed his bag and without another word left my base.

Waiting until I could hear the front door close, I immediately ran to take a shower and rub the greasy germs away. Why did I always let him do these things... Every time he came over I knew he was just using me. I thought again about how I could never return to Irk...never get to complete my mission or make the Tallest happy and proud of me. Maybe I let the Dib use me...because I was using him as well.

Using him for what...I've no idea. Maybe because I haven't figured out what makes me appealing to him yet. It's so strange...he could have nearly anyone else on the face of the earth and he chooses me, of all people. His mortal enemy in nearly every meaning. I asked him once and the only reply he gave was 'you're interesting, you're the only one I feel comfortable talking to.' But that's no excuse to me...we never talk...about anything. I know nearly literally nothing about the dumb human except that he plays some game called RuneScape...he rambled about it sometimes... That was okay...I never minded listening to him go on, it was a nice replacement.

As usual, when he left, I curled on the couch and stared at the TV, watching but not really watching the infomercials that played. I could never quite curl tight enough into myself to be comfortable. When he was there, and I was denying him, it felt so powerful, I felt...so immense. But then he would leave...and it was just a mass ocean of emptiness inside. A moment...one that didn't happen often, came to mind suddenly.

His hands were still for once, resting so lightly with one on my shoulder, the other on my side. His mouth was on mine, pursing back and forth. I had no idea where my legs were, so numb in the moment, my arms were somewhere on him, I'm sure. My eyes were closed and the only thing I felt was him, wherever his skin touched mine...not fire exactly...but something more content than the icy loneliness and unfeeling passiveness of just letting him do as he wanted. For this moment I was in control, for this moment...nothing mattered...the stress-induced twitching of my heart seemed to fade away...not existing in that moment.

Maybe that's why I let him in the base...why I didn't just rip him apart for merely touching me. For just that one moment...the world wasn't crashing into the stars. And inside, I knew I wanted that moment to happen again. I just didn't care about the person making that moment happen. So...who was really using who in all of this...?

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A/N

Some people get carried away...sometimes people just don't give a fuck.


End file.
